SF has been a navel town since day one when the ships sailed in the Golden Gate. Long before tats became trendy they were almost standard issue for sailors, and I'll bet long after Muffy, Chuck, and Larry get all bored with 'body art' that sailors are still going to be sporting tattoos. And have you ever seen a sober sailor on shore leave? No. The other huge group of people getting tatts long before Cindy Lou and Ken got their frat tattoo and even before Lucrezia Borgia* went all Suicide Girl Goth on everyone - were bikers and gang members. They too tended to show up loaded, and you know what? Everybody let them.
Actually, before you people came along and wrecked the perfectly sleazy, soft-white-underbelly world of tattooing with your notion of a reputable tattoo artist** - so that we can now have tattoo parlors in the strip mall right between the Dress Barn and the video game store - a tattoo was pretty much a life time visual reminder of that one night in your life when you were drunker than all other nights ever.
The only thing that bothers me about it (well the fact that while a very few tattoo jobs are fricking awesome, most are rather mediocre, and a rather large number are just crap - but that's the odds in all art) is that it's that entire commercialization of cool that pretty much has ruined everything in the post-modern world. Really, once you can go to the mall and get your tattoo right next to the Hot Topic so when you're done you can buy a whole new wardrobe to show it off in, how cool is it anyway?
Is anything cool, or unique, just because you buy it?
* - not her real name, she was born Meagan Leigh Murphy...
** - Some of you might like this story, it at least explains my reluctance over the word reputable. Back when I was in grad school there was an older (I was in my 30s, she was in her 50s, so it does not seem old now) women in the other program. We had some classes together, we talked and had offices in the same bullpen room and all that, and I always thought of her as one of those nice Iowa type women, raised her kids and is now following a dream of studying at that level. She was pretty prim and proper you know straight. Hell, her husband was a minister (Unitarian, but still...) She's always go have coffee with us but I never saw her at the bar come Friday afternoon (where we parked ourselves pretty much until Sunday morning). So this nice straight women takes me aside one day and whispers: "Do you know a reputable source for LSD?" Now, normally, people approach me with that topic like this" "Dude, I bet you could score us some killer doses," and they get my normal reply of "I have no idea what you are talking about," but her question threw me for a loop and I looked at her and said, rather loudly: "Lady, reputable people don't sell LSD." At which point one of my main professors was walking up behind me, heard only my reply and continued walking down the hall saying: "You might only veer close to the truth on occasions, but when you do you at least hit it head on."
And that's not the end of that story, but it's as much as I'm going to tell....